The Last Time
by splitsanity
Summary: Priority Murder Squad has had two victims on ice for over a year.  Then a 3rd is found.  While heading to the airport from visiting his mother, Reid and Morgan discover a fourth victim in a garbage can.  Can they find who is responsible before time's up?
1. Chapter 1

_**This is a mini crossover. Only Morgan and Reid are present, but Hotch will be called, and we can't leave out Garcia. I'm working on this as a gift to my brother is leaving for college. He is into the mythology of several different ancient races, and I'm going to be using his favorite. I used the premise of a couple episodes of **__**Meitantei Conan**__** (Japanese anime - **__**Cased Closed in America) for the clues and I hope that they will be mildly confusing but at the same time able to be solved. If you get the clues, please don't spoil with comments. Also it's set late season one, early season two. I'm not the best writer on here but I think that this story and my other, **__**In My Own **__**Little**__** Corner**__**, are really good. It does contain themes of BDSM and personal ownership, but all is consentual, well, to a point. I'm not much of a slash writer, but the implication of MxR are there. If you don't like male x male, please don't read. As with my other stories, ideas and comments are loved and appreciated. If you have an idea for the twist or turn, don't hesitate to send me a message.**_

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><p><em>He spread his wings wide as they arced from his back. It had been such a long time since he had stretched them. To feel the wind that allowed him to soar so freely was refreshing. It would end up costing him more than he ever cared to imagine.<em>

He woke up from his dream with a migraine. "What? Where am I? Who am I?" asked the young black man as he looked around, putting a hand up to his bleeding temple. He looked down and saw that he was stripped of all his clothing–not that he could remember what he was wearing anyway. He noticed to sets of dangling objects in the middle of his chest.

The first read:

_Simon, Jr, Derek M_

_228495686USN AB-  
><em>

_PROTESTANT - BAPTIST_

_Huh. Well, I'm either Simon Derek, or Derek Simon. I'm going with the latter, it sounds better. I'm Baptist and I'm in the Marines. One question down, one to go._ He looked around and saw the sod walls lined with piping and a metal door attached to metal walls obviously put here to hold the door.

He took a look at the second tag with a bit of disgrace. It read: _Derek Simon, property of William Hearts. If found, please return to–_

*clank, clank*

The sound of the metal door opening startled the young Marine. Searching around quickly to protect himself, the young man found a piece of piping that was rusting on the ground and held it in both hands like a sword to protect himself.

"Mr. Simon, I have no intention of harming you. Do be so kind as to put down the piping, hmm?" called out the older, stockier black man in a deep, gruff voice that was evident of his smoking habit. The voice had an overtone of a French accent to it.

"What do you want with me? Where are my clothes?" yelled the Marine, still wielding the pipe.

The older man, in his late 40's, used the cane in his right hand to knock the piping out of the Marine's Hand. Demonstrating that the cane he kept was for looks, he knocked the Marine's breath right out of him with a firm palm strike to the xyphoid process of the sternum, knocking the Marine down to the ground. The older man then grabbed the neck of the Marine and threw him against the terra wall on the underground hoding pen. To the shock of the Marine, his body then lost all form of resistance: His neck went limp, his eyes opened wide–looking straight forward– and the rest of his body went limp with nary an ounce in it.

_Why can't I fight? I'm a Marine, dammit! I shouldn't be intimidated like this. Fight, body, fight!_

"Now, Mr. Simon, please do calm down. I do so hate strenuous activity. If you look at my two men across the room there, you will see that one has a pile of clothes. Follow him to the wash room, clean yourself up, and rejoin me in the den," the older man leaned into Derek's ear, still looking forward at the dirt wall. "Pouvez-vous faire cela, Chocolat?" asked the older man in French so soft that it was almost inaudible, even to Derek.

Upon hearing the question in French, Derek simply nodded. He was still in shock that he could be reduced to a pile of goo to the older man with a simple question. The older man released his neck. "Good choice. Javier, take our guest to the lavatory. It shouldn't take him more than an hour to be back downstairs, understand?"

"Yes, I think I can do that, sir," replied Derek as he looked towards the door.

…

"But Fritzy, we hardly get to spend time alone without work getting in the way!" complained Brenda as the waitress put the waffles in front of each of them.

"Yeah, and whose fault is that, huh?" Fritz said incredulously as he poured so much syrup on his waffles that they were practically swimming in the sticky goodness.

"Are you gonna have a little waffle with the syrup?" Brenda asked lightheartedly. "I know! I'm sorry, it's just something that someone says that always sets the ideas spinning… I promise that I will not talk about work this morni–"

*ring, ring*

"Well, at least it ain't my phone that's going off right now, _Agent Howard_." Brenda said with a playful tone in her voice.

"Agent Howard. Uh-huh. Uh-huh? Right. I'm on my way."

"Who was that?" Brenda asked concerned.

"That was a member of the BAU. Apparently, he has discovered another body."

Brenda's phone began to ring at that instant. Digging through that massive black bag, the ring stopped for about ten seconds before restarting.

"Hey, honey, I think you ought to get a smaller bag; it'd save you a lot of time looking for things in it," Fritz said as he walked out the door of the diner.

Brenda threw him a nasty, playful look as he left the diner and answered the phone. "Yes, Detective Tao?"

"_Uh, Chief, you might want to get over here; we have another body."_

"Really?" Brenda sighed. "This makes four bodies! We need to get ahead of this guy! Was there a note with this one? Alright, could you send Sergeant Gabriel over to Gabel's Diner, please? Thank you."

"_Well, Chief, that's going to be a problem. He is, but the FBI are all over this one, since a, uh, Dr. Spencer Reid and a Derek Morgan, both of whom belong to the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, found the body."_

"Well what near they doing near the body in the first place?"

"_Well, for starters, the victim's leg was hanging out of the garbage can this time. I guess they've seen their fair of strange crimes."_

"Alright, Detective Tao. Take statements from the two FBI agents and do it as pleasantly as possible, I don't want to insult them. Have Detective Provenza canvas the area for anyone who might have seen anything last night. Oh, and have Detective Sanchez go with him, in case there are any non-English speaking people in the area. Thank you so much." Brenda said in a polite tone as she was scrounging through her purse for some money to leave the waitress at the busy little diner.

"_Alright, Chief, will do."_

_Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid–why are those names so __familiar_? Brenda thought as she waited for Sergeant Gabriel. Well, whomever they are, she was about to meet them–again maybe.

...

As she looked up from the seat, she heard a car honk its horn. Looking toward the driver, it was Sergeant Gabriel motioning for her to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_**Alright! Thanks for reading my first chapter. This was a bit difficult to write because I had to explain the relationship between Hotch and Brenda. It's a bit writer's discretion because it's not explained in either who conducts the "Closer" seminar so I envisioned that Hotch and Gideon would be present. In this chapter, all the clues are presented and the choice of mythology is presented. Please read and review! I love knowing what my audience think and how I can improve my story.**_

"Sergeant Gabriel, do we have a name of our latest victim yet?" Brenda asked, almost as immediate as her dress made contact with the seat.

"Yes. Her name is Agatha Reeds. She was a stay-at-home mom with two kids."

"Any identifying aspects of the victim?"

"Well, Chief, she was laying on top of a bucket of chrysanthemums. Would that be considered identifying aspect?" asked Sergeant Gabriel.

"Well, considering our first victim was a 19 year old virgin, the second victim was an 80 year old undertaker. Both of them died exactly one year apart. The third victim died in our custody, and now we have a woman who was disposed of with mums, I honestly don't know if you'd consider that 'identifying'. How I hate mums." Brenda observed as they drove to the crime scene.

…

After another 10 minutes of driving, Sergeant Gabriel and Deputy Chief Johnson arrived on the scene. She walked up to the FBI tent and found Agent Howard there.

"So am I going to be about to meet the two agents that found my fourth body? Or is the FBI going to withhold that information from me?"

"And how are you doing Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson?" Fritz asked with a smile. "They are right here. I'd like to introduce Agent Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Morgan said as he extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too. Although I've the strangest feeling that we've met before." Brenda said with her Georgian accent.

"I don't think we have; I would have remembered if we had." Reid said as he held onto his messenger bag.

"And why's that? Doctor Reid?" Brenda said with a strained smile painted on her face.

"I have an eidetic memory." Reid said as a statement of fact.

"Oh, well, then…" stuttered Brenda, shocked at the bluntness of Reid.

"Do we know why Mrs. Reeds was stashed with a bucket of mums?" asked Brenda.

"Well it could be that the killer is showing grief. Especially if the unsub is of a European background. In European cultures, especially France, mums are a symbol of death. If the unsub was of an Asian background, they would possibly leave them as a sign of lamentation or remorse," squeaked out Reid, nervously fidgeting with the handle of his messenger bag.

Brenda looked at him with surprise.

"I'm sorry. I–"

"No, no, Dr. Reid, it's quite alright! That's more information than I get out of my team in a whole week of investigation without prodding them to go look into things." Brenda said as she moved passed Fritz towards Reid. "Do y'all plan on being in town any longer? Or can y'all stay and help me out?"

"Well, I'd have to call Hotch, err, Agent Aaron Hotchner, my boss, and see if we can have the time off." Morgan said as he snaked his left arm up Reid's back and placing his hand on Reid's left shoulder.

…

"Sir," Derek spoke softly as he entered the living room of the mansion, "If I may ask: Who are you?" The clothes that were given to him were a butler's uniform. He had put on the suit in perfect detail, not realizing how his body knew what to do.

"That is none of your business, Monsieur Simon. But I will let you call me Thanatos for now," spoke the older man, seated on a chaise lounge, navy blue in color.

"Yes, Mr. Thanatos." Derek said as he used his left arm to cut himself in half as he bowed. "What may I get you, sir?"

"Right now, rien. Come here, Mr. Simon. We need to discuss a few rules that will apply while you are staying with us."

Hesitantly, he obeyed. He marched over to the master of the house and stood at perfect attention. With his arrival, Thanatos stood up and walked around the boy, inspecting his job on the application of the uniform. He stopped in front of Derek as he completed his circle.

He took in the sight that was before him. _A rather medium statured man, probably no taller than 5' 9". His skin tone was lighter than Thanatos', almost a Latino skin tone but not quite, but then again Thanatos was from the Belgian Congo. An unusual feature in his eyes–one was blue and one was green, something that he hadn't seen before, and it intrigued him so. His head and face were devoid of hair. Thanatos brushed his hand down Derek's cheek to find that it was as smooth as a baby bottom – which surprised him, considering there was hair elsewhere on the body. His muscles were clearly defined, but he was not outrageously buff – a feature that Thanatos did not enjoy seeing, so the boy in front of his acceptable. He had noticed in the saddened cage that there were well defined washboard abs underneath the clothing that were probably harder than steel. He had broad shoulders and long arms that ended with long, narrow fingers. All in all, the sight before him was definitely worth the price he had paid Mr. Hearts for a bodyguard. He would ask if he could go beyond that boundary later but at this point in time, the answer was a "no"._

"Please do not hesitate again when I ask, Monsieur Simon. I will allow you this one hesitation, free of punitive measures, but do not tempt my grace or mercy. Do you understand?" spoke Thanatos as he gently slid a finger under Derek's chin, pulling it upward.

"Yes, Mr. Thanatos." Derek responded with a bow of his head.

…

Back in Brenda's office, Morgan called Hotch.

"Hey, Hotch."

"Morgan, why are you and Reid not back from Las Vegas yet?"

"Well, well we went to go see Lila in Hollywood, and ended up finding a dead body."

"And how is she?" Aaron asked, knowing that Morgan had put him on speaker.

"She's good, sir." chimed in Reid, knowing that the question was actually meant for him.

"Well, Hotch, the reason we're calling is to have a few extra days off. Seems that a Brenda Leigh Johnson is in charge of Priority Homicide here in L.A. and she's got four dead bodies with no apparent connection. We–"

"_I_ was wondering if you could lend them to me for a couple of days, Aaron?" interrupted Brenda, ignoring the looks of confusion on Morgan and Reid's faces

"What makes you think you need them, Brenda?"

"Well with each body there has been a part of a riddle and I'm completely stumped." Brenda informed Aaron.

"What do you have of the riddle so far?"

"So far I've had four victims, all cut with a scythe diagonally across the chest. One is a 19-year-old virgin, one is an 80-year-old undertaker, one was a prominent gardener who died here in the interview room–she was only 24, coroner deemed a heart attack, and my fourth victim, that your two agents found, was a 30-year-old mother of two young children. With the first one: _When the god of time has taken his last breath_. The second one: _A mighty Conqueror will ask "Et tu?"_. The third one: _Creation of the new dawn will be complete_. Tell me, Aaron, even you would connect them with the lines that were found with them, right? That's what you and Jason Gideon taught us in the seminar when I was at the CIA anyway." Brenda said with a bit of urgency in her voice.

"Alright, alright, Brenda they're yours. But they will be on the clock. You two understand?" Aaron caved with little pressure. He knew that Brenda Leigh Johnson was the best closer the CIA had ever seen. He also knew that she wouldn't have asked if she didn't need the help.

Morgan and Reid looked at each other with that last comment. "Yes, Hotch." "Yes, sir." They replied in unison.

"What was that last comment supposed to mean?" Brenda asked, although she already had a pretty good clue.

"Nothing that you need to worry about because it won't affect work," stated Morgan in a definitive statement as he looked from Reid to Brenda.

…

Brenda walked out of her office with the two BAU agents and Fritz behind her. "Alright, listen up, y'all. I'd like to introduce Agent Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid, both of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. They are on loan to us from the BAU to help us solve the puzzle that our killer seems to be leaving us. Now I want y'all to be pleasant and welcome these gentlemen by introducing yourself to them." Brenda said as she stood in front of the whiteboard.

"Detective Lieutenant Provenza," Provenza said as he pulled himself from his reclined position offering a hand out.

"Detective Daniels, nice to meet you," Daniels said with a smile as she looked over Morgan, not noticing the bit of green that was creeping over Reid.

"Sergeant Gabriel, sir," Gabriel said as he threw up the file in his hand for a wave.

"Lieutenant Flynn," Flynn said sleepily.

"Detective Tao," Tao said as he looked up from the papers on his desk with a smile. He looked back down at the papers on his desk.

"Detective Sanchez," Sanchez said as he squinted his eyes at fidgeting Dr. Reid.

"And of course, y'all know Agent Fritz Howard," Brenda said with a slight blush crossing her cheeks. "Now if we could let's get the FBI caught up as to what's happening, please? Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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><p><em><strong>Alright, guys, I'm sorry! I got focused on my other story, <span>In My Own Little Corner<span>, and school has been a little hectic, and sundry things have come up this past week. Some notes: A SAFE kit is the official name for the rape kit, a boulangerie is French for a bakery, and Thanatos has a conversation in which he speaks French, the first line is "This is (name) speaking", the next thing that he yells into the phone is "Do not refill that order!". Oh and all the clues are given for the criminal's plan in this chapter. If you get the message, DO NOT SPOIL IT in the review and comments section, please! Thanks again for reading this story, and please comment and/or review please! It really does make my day good... Peace, guys!**_

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><p>Sergeant Gabriel stood in front of the group at the whiteboard. "Alright, our first victim was 19-year-old Henrietta Hudson, killed December 21, 2004." He pointed to a picture of the girl with red hair, freckles, braces, and big round glasses up on the whiteboard. "She was found stuffed in the oven at her job with a slash wound that went from throat down to her navel. From the SAFE kit, it was determined that there were no signs of sexual assault, nor any other signs of sexual relation. In essence–a virgin."<p>

"Her financial records show that she held a steady job at a boulangerie–a bakery–on the corner of Carter and Imperial. I went out to the store–Boulanger's Boulangerie–and talked to the manager and owner, a Mason Boulanger. He said that Henrietta was one of his best workers," Detective Daniels said from her desk, making eye contact with Morgan.

"There were no gangs owning up to the murder, but the way she was killed doesn't lead to any crew. This feels more personal. She had no siblings and her parents were in Portland, OR at the time of the murder," Sanchez spoke, still eyeing the ever greening Reid.

"The statement that was painted on the trays in the bakery was: _When the god of Time takes his final breath_. Cronus was the Greek god of Time, one of the Titans. He was overthrown by his son, Zeus, who ushered in the Age of Olympia," blurted out Reid, quieting the whole room. "Does we know who was the last person to see her?" asked Reid.

"A friend by the name of Alysia Olivier Parmper," said Detective Tao, as he searched through the papers on his desk, searching for a photo, to hand Reid.

"We confirmed her alibi, effectively eliminating anyone immediately around her with motive, means, or opportunity to want to kill this girl," Flynn said as he handed Morgan the file in his hand.

"So what about the next victim?" Morgan asked. He knew they were going to be there a long time, so he might as well hurry things up.

"Hank Dales, an 80-year-old part-time undertaker and prospector that died of asphyxiation," Provenza said, getting up from his chair, pointing the picture of an old man with balding, white hair. "He was found on December 21, 2005. But the thing is, he was found in one of the crematories, nude with an "X" carved post-mortem in his chest, at his family's funeral home, Dales Funeral Home & Crematory, run by his younger sister, Penelope Shipher. He had no children and he was a widower."

"Looks like you in few years!" screamed out Sanchez teasingly.

"Enough, Julio!" Provenza yelled. "Now the line that was found in a canister stuffed in his throat read: _A mighty conqueror will ask "Et tu?"_."

"Act III, scene I, line 77 in Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_," Reid spit out, causing everyone to look back at the man. Morgan simply smiled at his Pretty Boy.

"Ok, so we've got a literature lover doubling as a killer. This is why I don't do book clubs," mumbled Provenza as he sat down.

"Our next victim was 24-year-old," Brenda said taking command of the operation, "was prominent botanist who, Desiree Mountcastle, had been poisoned with potassium chloride laced in her nicotine patch." She pointed to a picture of a young woman with a curly black hair, a stud in her nose and matching studs in her ears, wearing a weak smile as if she was camera shy on the cover of _Botanical Journal_. "She was in the hospital for almost all of last year when her then fiancé's lover allegedly cut her in a psychotic break across the chest, although he vehemently denied attacking her. The attack resulted with a severe laceration that nicked several of her internal organs, including her heart and left lung. She died while we were interviewing her on the death of her ex-fiancé, and it turned out that she was just the innocent bystander of his boyfriend's negligent homicide. She was unaware of his infidelity at the time, since she was in the hospital, and he played the ever-faithful fiancé while she was there. She took the news rather hard."

"She was found with a clip-cut message stapled to the inside of her coat reading: _Creation of the new dawn will be complete_," Detective Tao read aloud from his computer.

"It's like he's daring us to find him," Flynn said flatly.

"Well, with the addition of Agatha Reeds, we're up to 4 bodies. But this one didn't have a note on her," Detective Daniels said with a sense of desperation in her voice.

"Uh, I wouldn't be so sure, Daniels," Tao said aloud, causing everyone in the department to turn and stare at him. "I was going through her computer and found this word file. It's definitely a note:

Her two children are a year apart.

The botanist was killed on her birthday.

The mums were for my mother. She did so love her birthdays.

This was the beginning of the end for me.

I don't think it's too hard now."

Reid got up and started walking to the whiteboard. He started looking at the pictures and the names, moving his head from side to side.

"Of course, chrysanthemums are a representation of November!" exclaimed Reid.

"And the botanist was killed on her 24th birthday," declared Morgan as he walked up the aisle behind Sanchez to the board, taking a spot beside his lover. "Something happened on a November 24th, but we don't have the year."

"Of course, they were killed a _year_ apart!" exclaimed Brenda as she came up to the other side of Reid, nearest the door, staring at the board. "Hudson was 19 and Dales was 80! 1980! How could we not have gotten this?"

"Alright, Tao, I would like you to search the entirety of the LAPD's crimes database to see what, if anything happened on November 24th, 1980. It's possible that our killer is in the system, as either the victim or a relative of a victim. Detectives Sanchez and Daniels, I'd like for you two to help him, please. Thank you. Detective Flynn, I'd like for you to give Lieutenant Provenza here a hand at understand the line that we found with Mrs. Reeds. "A new dawn" has to be created, look for potential target location that someone would want to "create" anew. Thank you. Sergeant Gabriel, I would like to go find Mr. Reeds and her two children. It's still pretty early in the day," Brenda said, seeing her watch said 11:30 in the morning, "I figure the children are still at school."

"Uh, Ms. Johnson?" called out Morgan.

"It's Brenda."

"Alright, _Brenda_, do you have a habit of ordering people around like this?"

"Well, we're tryin' to catch a psychopath, so I'm splitting the team up so they can do the job they do best. So, yeah. Why what's the problem?" Brenda Leigh responded.

"Ma'am, we have an analyst that could search through all of your records in a matter of seconds. You shouldn't have to have three people looking through hundreds of lines of information," Morgan offered, trying not to offend.

"Well, by all means! If it means that I can get my confession and close this case even quicker, by all means, call your analyst and have Tao, Sanchez, and Daniels at your disposal. Now, if you don't mind, I have to go and tell two children that their mother was found dead. Thank you. Sergeant," Brenda said to Morgan and Reid as she motioned for Gabriel to come with her.

"She's a lot like Hotch, don't you think?" Reid said walking to Morgan.

"No, I think she's worse," Morgan said as he flipped open his phone to call Garcia.

…

"Mr. Thanatos," Derek said as he walked into the living room of the mansion, "there is someone at the door to see you. He says his name is Christopher Sullers. Should I permit him?"

"Yes, allow him," Thanatos called from his chaise lounge in the living room. He sat up to greet his guest. "Christopher, my boy! How are you? It's been how long since I last saw you?" He stood to meet his 2nd cousin, wrapping his immensely muscular arms around the pencil thin man that was standing before him. Although he was his cousin, Christopher was about 10 years younger than Thanatos.

"Would either of you like a drink?" Derek asked as a courtesy.

"Yes, Simon. For me, a Falero*. Christopher, anything for you?" offered Thanatos.

"No thanks, cousin. I'm trying to quit drinking," Christopher said with a chuckle.

"Mr. Thanatos, I'm not a drinker, how do I make a…Falero?" Derek said, hoping he had called the drink correctly.

"It's really simple, Simon. In a shaker, combine the following: four blackberries, 3/4 oz. of syrup of each, squeeze the juice out of a freshly cut lime, and take 2 oz. Marie Framboise. Shake hard, and strain over ice into a highball glass, topping it off with seltzer and put a blackberry and a raspberry in the drink. Understand, Simon?" Thanatos explained how to make the drink.

"Certainly, sir. I'll have it out in a few minutes," Derek said as he left the room, muttering the instructions he had just received.

…

"You have him call you _Thanatos_? Really, Théo? Don't you think that's a bit too much?" Christopher asked.

"Chris, I've been dealing in the undertaking business for nearly 50 years now, what else would you call me?"

"You've also been running the French section of town for nearly 40 years, too. But that wouldn't have anything to do with it, now would it?" Chris said with a smile.

*ring, ring*

"Excuse me a moment, Chris," Théo said as he picked up the house phone. "Il s'agit de Theodore A. S. Charpentiers parlant. … … … Oui. … … … … Non! Ne remplissez pas cette ordonnance! … … … Bon. Merci."

"Business?" Chris asked, as if he didn't know the answer.

"Oui, some idiot was trying to refill an order that I had place several weeks ago. I told the supplier that it was a one-time order that was not to be refilled. Needless to say, the man I left in charge forgot that it was a singular order. Honestly, if I'm going to have people screw-up, I might have to start working again..." Théo said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

At that moment, Derek walked back in with the drink on a tray with a teapot and some teacups. "I brought you some tea for your guest if he would like some," Derek said as he placed the tray down.

"Thank you, Mr. Simon, that was thoughtful," Christopher said with a smile.

"That will be all, Simon. I will call for you when we are ready for lunch. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Thanatos," Derek said as he bowed and turned to leave the room.

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><p><em><strong>The drink, Falero, is a real drink. Here's the website for the drink with a pic: newyork.<strong>_

**_grubstreet_**

_**.com/2011/05/kaleidoscope_#photo=7x00087**_


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